(Alessio's POV)
The scent of blood still clung to my gloves.
My fists ached with the memory of striking bone and flesh. Four hours in the basement and yet my anger was far from quenched. I'd fired five employees before noon for reasons as petty as wrong paperwork or an accidental glance. The entire mansion tread on eggshells. As they should.
I stood by the window of my office, overlooking the rain-soaked courtyard. Storms suited me. They were honest in their violence.
The door burst open without a knock, as usual. Only two men in this godforsaken world had that kind of permission. Or audacity.
"Tell me you didn't kill anyone important today," Enzo said, his smirk already forming as he sauntered in like he owned the place. Twenty-three and full of heat, charm, and unchecked libido. Leather jacket, disheveled hair, the usual scent of omega clinging to him like a second skin.
Behind him came Theo—cooler, quieter, and far more dangerous. Dressed in a three-piece black suit like he was ready for a funeral or a wedding, you never knew with Theo. He looked at the blood still staining my shirt and clicked his tongue.
"Don't tell me you wore Armani to a torture session again."
"I don't recall asking for commentary," I muttered, sitting behind my desk.
Enzo sprawled across my guest sofa, boots kicked up on the armrest. "We've been hearing stories. You're practically painting the basement red. What the hell crawled up your royal ass today?"
"Family business," I said, voice like ice. "Grandfather wants me married."
Theo lifted an eyebrow. "Ah. The great heir crisis."
Enzo cackled. "Let me guess—he wants a sweet, fertile omega in lace who'll give you ten kids and call you 'Alpha' every time you grunt?"
I stared at him. "You sound disturbingly enthusiastic."
"I mean, it does sound fun."
Theo sat on the armrest near Enzo, ever the instigator. "So? What is your type, Alessio? If we have to find you a bride, we might as well know what kind of meat to toss in the cage."
"Obedient," I replied coolly. "Silent. Clean. I don't want someone clingy or romantic. I don't need affection—I need cooperation. Someone who understands boundaries and won't question mine. Someone untouched."
Enzo whistled. "You want a damn porcelain doll."
"I want control."
Theo tapped his chin thoughtfully. "Well, with that checklist, you're not going to find anyone in polite society. Most omegas with that level of submission are either dead or locked in vaults."
"Or," he added with a devilish gleam, "on the auction block."
Enzo sat up. "Wait. What?"
Theo shrugged. "Buy one. Auctions have all types. Broken, trained, scared, blank. You're not looking for love—you want a contract. A role filled. Two years, give you a child, play the perfect wife in front of the family. Then they walk away with compensation and their freedom."
"You're suggesting," Enzo said slowly, "that Alessio buy a bride?"
"Not a bride," Theo corrected, smiling. "A solution."
"You're insane."
"You said that last time I suggested arsenic for the senator."
"And you used it."
I ignored their bickering, leaning back in my chair.
Buy a bride. An omega stripped of history. Trained to obey. No emotional complications. Just a signed contract and two years of performance.
It was cold.
It was calculated.
It was... appealing.
The image formed in my head—my grandfather's smug satisfaction, the board's silence, the alliance proposals finally dying down. A child born to secure the line, and once the act was done, we sever ties.
No feelings.
No loss.
No weakness.
"I'll consider it," I said.
Both of them froze.
Theo blinked. "Wait, you're seriously thinking about it?"
"It solves every problem," I said. "And it's efficient."
Enzo looked both horrified and impressed. "God, you really are a cold bastard."
"I've never claimed otherwise."
Theo chuckled. "Then we'll make arrangements. Discreetly. The next high-tier omega auction is in two weeks. Exclusive, high-security, invite-only."
"Get me in," I said.
Enzo threw up his hands. "This is madness. You're actually gonna buy someone like they're livestock."
"Better livestock than betrayal," I said sharply. "I don't need a partner—I need an heir. End of story."
Theo grinned. "You might actually enjoy it. Who knows? Maybe your new bride will bite."
I stared out at the rain again. Something in my chest twisted, a slow coil of anticipation.
Let the games begin.
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